Page 115 of Firecracker


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“Conrad, darling!” My mother swished forward and extended her bejeweled fingers for him to clasp. “So nice of you to stop by.”

Anyone who didn’t know my mother well would have believed her smile was friendly and a bit vapid, as if she and she alone had missed the spectacle Conrad had caused and the lingering tension in the air. I knew her well enough to see the wintery death gleam in her blue eyes, and it was almost—almost—enough to make me pity the man.

“Patricia,” Conrad grunted, taking her proffered hand. “Wish I could say the same.”

My mother laughed lightly. “Have you met Mr. Honeycutt yet?” She tilted her head toward Flynn. “He’s the mastermind behind the hottest mead company in the country. Can you believe how many people are shouldering their way in here for a taste of his varietals? It’s simply thrilling.” She patted Flynn’s cheek. “Such a smart boy… despite his questionable upbringing. He’s like a son to me, you understand.”

Flynn twisted his tongue in his mouth, but the edges of his lips still turned up. “You flatter me….Mama Wellbridge.”

My mother’s face went blank for one full second, which was an utter delight to behold. Flynn was right—too much getting along would be boring. It seemed my mother had met her match, and I was going to give Flynn the oral treat of his choice to thank him for demonstrating it.

She lifted one impeccably groomed eyebrow. “Not at all, Flynn. I’m excessively proud of your accomplishments,” she said fondly. Then she turned back to my father’s old friend, her eyes glittering in a way that reminded me why Patricia Wellbridge had always been a valuable asset on the campaign trail. “In fact, I plan to spread the word about Honeybridge Mead toallour friends and associates at our end-of-season victory party. The Dunkirks will be there, of course. Have you ever met Leticia Dunkirk, Conrad? She inherited controlling interest in one of the largest wineries in North America a few years ago. And the Sheas—you remember Gary Shea, don’t you? I believe he’s highly placed in the New York State Liquor Authority or some such thing now.” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Pucky Dubour—pardon,GovernorDubour—will probably make an appearance. He loves my parties. And the Penningtons. The Patels. The Swenson-Taggarts—Stella Swenson is a columnist for theWashington Post, you recall, but her husband runs that giant shipping company that was rumored to have purposely held up shipments just to sabotage one of his son’s political rivals. I never believed him capable of suchvindictiveness, naturally, but then, is there really a limit to what one will do to protect one’s son?”

With every powerful name my mother dropped, Conrad grew paler and seemed to shrink in on himself. “Well, I—” He swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Mother beamed. “I justknewyou’d understand, Conrad. You and the Senator have enjoyed such a long-standing friendship, and we’re so grateful for all that you’ve done for Jonathan—most especially sending him home this summer and indirectly helping these lovebirds along—”

“Lovebirds?” Flynn whispered.

“Go with it,” I murmured.

“We’d be devastated if anything were to cause a rift in that friendship.” She tilted her head and gave Conrad a terrifyingly pleasant smile.

“N-no. No, of course not.” Conrad nodded so firmly his jowls all jiggled at once. “Please assure Trent—er, the Senator—that our friendship will, ah… remain intact.”

“Wonderful.” Mother clasped her hands together. “Now, then. I’m sure we’ve taken up more than enough of your valuable time.” She lifted her chin and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Please don’t let us keep you any longer.”

Conrad and Jeff flounced away, and I watched them go without a single qualm.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” One of the Ren Faire people approached my mother with wide eyes and an awed voice. “Have you ever attended a Renaissance Faire? Because we have an opening for Queen Elizabeth…”

Before I could hear my mother’s reply, Flynn grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me bodily around the side of the tent to push me up against one of the expo center’s support poles.

“Your owncompany,Frog?” he demanded, green eyes snapping. “When you said we had things to discuss later, I assumed you meant something aboutus. A-a-a visitation schedule, maybe. Or asking me to make our relationship exclusive. Or maybe explaining why your mother is calling me herson.”

I blinked. “Wait. Back up. Was there a chance we wouldn’t be exclusive?” I growled, reversing our positions so that Flynn’s back was to the pole. In the past, I’d never seen the appeal of commitment or monogamy, but when it came to Flynn… “It turns out I have very strong opinions about that.”

“Well, no.” Flynn blushed. “No, I want that. I just meant…”

I cupped his jaw and brushed my thumb over his bottom lip, unable to stop touching him. “You told me to let you know when I was ready to trade in my career for a position in Honeybridge. Well… I am.”

Flynn’s breathing accelerated, and I felt his pulse thrumming against the side of my hand like hummingbird wings. “You had a problem with the Meadery’s benefits package,” he reminded me softly. “No unlimited mead, no 401k.”

“But what about unlimited access to the mead maker?” I demanded. “Are you willing to negotiate on that yet?”

Flynn’s breath caught. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice raw and heavy with emotion. “Don’t say shit like that, Frog, unless you mean it.”

I stared down into those green eyes I loved. “Of course I mean it. I love you, Flynn. For maybe the first time in my life, I knowexactlywho I am and exactly where I want to be. Rainmaker Holdings will be based in Honeybridge. I’m moving there permanently.”

“No.” Flynn shook his head obstinately, trying to pull away. “No, JT. Absolutely not. You love your job. Y-your apartment in the city with the squash court. You love being that person. You told me so. And I won’t let you give that up just because—”

I held him in place and gently covered his mouth with my hand. “Baby, listen to me. I’m not giving anything up. I’m giving myself the opportunity to do business the way I want to. To have the kind of community and relationships I want to. To wake up every morning and do something I’m passionate about—helping smaller companies make the connections they need to broaden their reach and grow their businesses—while also living conveniently close to themanI feel passionate about.” I grinned. “I promise you, Firecracker, there is no sacrifice here. This—us—is success.”

Emotions passed quickly over Flynn’s face. Joy and fear. Elation and worry. Cautious, powerful hope.

“Shit, Jon. You’ll love that.” He pulled my hand away from his mouth and clenched it in both of his. “Are you sure? Please be sure.”

“I’m absolutely positive.” I gave him a half-smile. “And you know what I’ll love more than building that business? Building a life with you.” I caught him by the hips and pulled him closer. “I wanted to talk about all this tonight. As soon as possible. I was going to tell you everything I’d been planning and ask whatyouwanted our future to look like without making assumptions for once. I never planned to present you with the facts like it was all a done deal. You can check your texts if you don’t believe me—”

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